


On the Mend

by TechieHux



Series: Crybaby Warden Chronicles [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Drunkenness, Gay Male Character, Gen, How Do I Tag, Male Friendship, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechieHux/pseuds/TechieHux
Summary: And damn if he wasn't tired of holding this terrible grudge so tight within himself, watching it sink him down in despair. Most of all, he was tired of being a miserable drunk so far away from home and without the guy who had been his best friend and Grey Warden brother.





	On the Mend

He's wallowing in shame at an especially low brow tavern in the Free Marches, nursing a glass of ale longer than his forearm when, wouldn't you know it, the veritable Hero of Ferelden himself appears in the doorway, surrounded by a pair of Grey Wardens he's never before seen. Corinn whispers something to them and they trail behind him as he approaches Alistair, who desperately wishes for this to just be a drunken hallucination and squirms in his seat.

But of course it's not, because Corinn's bare hand reaches out and cautiously rests against his shoulder while he's wearing that timid, skittish look, familiar even after so long. His hand is so unbearably warm that Alistair flinches. It occurs to him suddenly that Corinn is rather dressed down to be out and about at this hour. Anybody could whip out a dagger and sink it through his flimsy clothes. Alistair fights the temptation to do so, knowing his goons are only a few feet away. And he's pretty drunk too, if he's being honest. That certainly wouldn't help.

"Alistair," Corinn breathes, eyes wide, like he can't believe this is actually happening. That makes two, buddy.

"In the flesh," he slurs, and his jaw drops as Corinn also drops. To his knees. In front of Alistair's open legs. Heat rushes to his face as he recalls a particularly embarrassing conversation around the campfire, and the shock is so strong and instinctual that he forgets to be bitter. "Wha-"

"I want to make things right between us," Corinn says in the general direction of the dirty wooden floor, and when he looks up to meet Alistair's gaze there are fat tears rolling down his splotchy cheeks. It's such a familiar sight that his hand twitches with the need to affectionately ruffle his hair. Just like he would have done… before. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it. All I ask is that you give me another chance at your friendship."

White hot anger creeps up his chest until he can hardly speak; thinking of Loghain, alive after everything he'd done, Anora banishing him, and Corinn-! He betrayed him. So much they'd been through together, and yet… Loghain easily took even Corinn from him.

"Punch yourself. Hard," he finds himself saying, knuckles whitening from his killer grip on the edge of the table. Everyone must be staring at them by now, but it only goads Alistair on. Let them watch the Hero of Ferelden prostrate himself in front of a drunken nobody and make a fool of himself!

Nothing ever seems to go his way, so he half expects Corinn to back out and weave some of his natural charm into a persuasive excuse, but that doesn't happen. Corinn's fist connects with his face so hard that the CRACK makes a waitress drop her mug on a customer.

The bodyguards tense but otherwise do nothing. This is for real. "Insult yourself," Alistair commands, fascinated despite himself at this little show.

"I'm a spoiled, cowardly moron," he says dutifully (and it sort of sounds like he means it) while his broken nose leaks blood and split lips swell.

"I've always known as much," he says solemnly, and then adds, "Act like a darkspawn."

Almost immediately the youngest Cousland hunches over, crouches a little on the balls of his feet, and sticks his jaw out in imitation of an under bite. He lets out an inhuman shriek that sounds so very very close to an actual darkspawn it raises every hair on his body (a testament to how long they spent fighting the Blight, no doubt).

What gets Alistair about all this is there was no hesitation at all, Corinn just… transformed… like he'd expected it? Before he can stop himself his laughter is bubbling up, a rough, full-belly laugh that shakes the table and makes him gasp for breath. This is absolutely ridiculous! The laughter infects Corinn as well, and then he's off in a frenzy of giggles (a grown man, imagine that!), and possibly more at ease than he'd ever seen him.

"Ow," is his eloquent response once the giggle fit dies down enough to remind him of the throbbing pain in his face. Alistair wipes at his eyes and sighs somewhat contentedly. For a second it felt like the Landsmeet had never occurred.

"Truly, Alistair, I mean to apologize. It was selfish of me to push you into marrying Anora. And I don't regret sparing Loghain, you know I try to let as many people as possible live, but… had I known it would have cost me your friendship, cost me YOU, perhaps…" he trails off and looks hopefully, forlornly, at Alistair.

He chokes up and suddenly his nose is stuffy (he's definitely not about to cry, uh uh, nope). Damn, he missed this fool. Everything from his incessant sobbing to his fluffy auburn hair and even the bratish tone he'd take when he's being stubborn and he knows it.

And damn if he wasn't tired of holding this terrible grudge so tight within himself, watching it sink him down in despair. Most of all, he was tired of being a miserable drunk so far away from home and without the guy who had been his best friend and Grey Warden brother.

"I can't promise anything, Cousland," (not Corinn, not just yet), "but… I'm willing to try."

And maybe things are finally looking up.


End file.
